


Life Is Not A Sitcom

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Complete, Domestic Fluff, Multi, Polygamy, Russia has Issues (Hetalia), Swearing, belarus has issues, stalkers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:45:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12648285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Alfred's distraction hugs get him in more trouble than he expected. There is POV changes but they are fairly obvious. Rated mature due to swearing and implied sex, but otherwise clean.





	1. Chapter 1

Ivan sat in front of the TV set, a brewing mix of hate and disgust within. He glanced to his transfixed companion, the American practically hypnotized. He just stared at the screen, mindlessly shovelling junk food into his body. 

Russia had discovered his forlorn foe in this state when the moron didn't show up for a meeting in Canada. It wasn't even a three hour flight for the honey blond, yet he just stayed home. “Stop watching stupid sitcoms and get to work. We were supposed to discuss mars colony stuff!” Ivan scolded, pulling Alfred's ear. His harmless grip was swatted away.

“It's not stupid. See, he's the daddy... She's the mommy, and they have three kids in a quirky little town...” Alfred babbled, never looking from the screen.

“This isn't normal or healthy, even for us.” Ivan deadpanned, noticing just how many empty take out containers there was. The brain damaged loon had clearly not moved much for several days.

“... the youngest child is called Sasha. She's a cute little punk. I though you'd be flattered Sasha is so popular here. There's this one episode, when she was in a science fair...” Alfred continued, lost in his own little world.

“Do not ignore me, American.” Ivan hissed, pulling a rusty metal pipe from his long black wool coat.

“She wanted to win so badly, she sabotaged another kid's project. In the end, she learned about teamwork... and trust...” Alfred pushed on louder, lost in his delusion. Russia growled, unleashing all of today's frustration on the unfortunate TV. With three strikes it was smashed plastic and exposed wiring guts. “Answer me, or I will break you.” The Russian threatened, possessing a much shorter temper than he dared to admit in public.

Alfred merely stared at where the TV once stood, glassy eyed. “Sitcoms are not real! Nuclear families don't exist anymore! Everyone is miserable peasants, no matter the century! Get over it, and get back to fucking work!” Ivan yelled, at wits end.

America finally seemed to return to reality, looking up slowly. His sky blue eyes seemed clouded over by despair, no light within. He was crying silently, almost comparable to Ukraine with big salty drops. “I... know...” he whispered, unable to muster a smile. “I know there is no god... no love... no hope... I know...”

Ivan's temper faltered at the dismal display. Alfred was supposed to be the symbol of light in the world, a hero. Ivan was supposed to be the sad realist. Something was extremely wrong here. “Tell me what happened.” the Russian said flatly, knowing some long stupid story was attached. Crying really didn't suit the boy.

“I know life isn't perfect. My dad is a British fucking prick. I don't know how France got involved, and I never ever want to know. But I have like his eyes and stuff so I thought, maybe... maybe we could be family together... then I looked into Europe and the whole place is a giant blood fuelled orgy of fucking nonsense... Germany is probably my damn cousin or whatever... At least I had Mattie... but now, I can't even watch my sitcoms. You fucking asshole...” Alfred wailed, starting to pull strands of hair out as he rambled.

“I can assure you we are not related. I checked twice.” Ivan consoled softly, rage set aside for now. He stopped the idiot from pulling out more of those precious golden locks, by holding the shaking hands. “I have no one now.” Alfred whimpered between sobs, taking in the lazy comfort. His grip was bone grinding. “A sibling argument then.” Ivan noted while wincing, trying to loosen up his trapped hands.

“My new president said something really racist... then Mattie's boss got mad, then my bro got mad at me, and the boss man was like 'fix it or else'... and now he won't talk to me unless I get a new leader! That takes four years! I'll totally die inside if I have to wait that long.” Alfred continued, bawling his eyes out more.

Garbage was pushed away violently. Russia was pulled down until he was unwillingly cuddled and used as a sponge for errant tears. Partially unwillingly anyway. Truth be told, it had been been ten years since Ivan had been hugged by anyone that wasn't Belarus. She didn't really count. The disturbed sister understood the mechanics of hugging, but completely lacked the emotion. It was mostly uncomfortable.

Still not making sense, Alfred's tears dotted Ivan's coat as they soaked into the wool. It seemed like a long time passed before the younger nation calmed, allowing Ivan to slide off his lap. The spontaneous humanity of the hug made Ivan cringe, yet feel warm inside. Please not again...

“Where was the meeting this time?” Alfred asked, mostly at standard obnoxious loudness. Ivan then realized why America was so upset. Canada hadn't told his own brother where the next meeting would be. It seemed impossible between the largely co-dependant twins

“It was in Ottawa instead of Toronto. I got lost twice.” Ivan informed, analyzing Alfred's reaction closely. Unhappiness shifted to sadness, then ended with confusion. “Where the fuck is Ottawa?” Alfred blurted out, never one to contain his thoughts. “I... don't know.” Ivan replied slowly, unable to recall anything interesting about the large city. There certainly wasn't a sizable Russian district like in Toronto, where Ivan could really relax.

“He didn't tell you then.” Ivan stated, seeking to confirm what seemed unlikely. Canada and America were incredibly close after all. Not telling someone where the next meeting would take place was rude. The last thing Canada would be is rude.

Alfred sniffled, looking ready to inhale yet another pint of ice-cream. Ivan stepped back, before he could be used as an emotional buffer again. “No...” the American finally sighed. Tearful blue eyes looked at Ivan, bright and sincere. “Thanks for checking up on me. It's nice to know that someone cares. It's been like... ten months since Mattie talked on the phone to me.” Alfred admitted, smiling.

“I didn't check up on you because I care.” Ivan huffed. Heck, he and Ukraine hadn't really talked much in ten years. It was just another burden nations carried. America was just being a giant handsome sissy.

“I totally owe you one... Maybe you could shoot me a text for when the next meeting is?” Alfred continued, not listening one bit. Feeling fuzzy inside yet really uncomfortable, Ivan nodded. He fled the emotionally saturated scene the second he could manage. Americans were just so strange.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred was light on his feet, nearly dancing as he roamed one of the white house wings. America's incredibly racist boss had made an ass of himself again on television. As a result, the tanned nation had simply left the office to blow off steam. An entire shitty day was instantly made better by a few words.

Ivan had texted him the location of the next meeting, as promised. It was just 'Copenhagen, 1rst of December, 1100 hours, usual hotel', yet so much more. Russia had been to kind to check up on him, so sweet to listen to his woes. Perhaps he wanted to be friends. No, Ivan definitely wanted to be friends. Maybe Alfred could make those cute little sandwiches, and bring snacks. Cheese, pickles... little crackers... they could make a whole day of it! Then after Alfred could drag Ivan to a telescope somewhere and they could discuss star stuff...

The American grinned but calmed down, knowing he was getting ahead of himself. Even if it was oh so obvious Russia wanted to be best pals with the coolest nation ever, there was stages to these things. Adorable triangle sandwiches was at least stage three of Operation Friendship.

Fortunately, the ambitious American still owed Ivan a favour. He still had no idea what that would be, but it wouldn't be too crazy. Just a little thing. Getting a misspelled text from his grossly incompetent leader, Alfred couldn't be bothered to get upset. He hummed happily as he returned to duty, excited for the departure to Copenhagen.

One week later, Alfred landed in Denmark, grinning like a fool. He actually used hacking technology to find the time Matthew would arrive here. Then they could 'accidentally' meet at the flight gate, and get caught up. The silly Canadian would realize how wrong he was, then they'd go out for drinks like old times. The plan was flawless!

Stepping out of the flight gate, Matthew didn't even see his brother at first. In fact, he was animatedly chatting with Germany and Prussia behind him in the line. Alfred was quick to correct that mistake, calling out “Hey Bro! Long time, no see!”

Matthew's happy expression soured as he walked right past America without saying a word. Germany followed Canada, concerned, while Prussia lagged behind to briefly chat with America. It was nice to be acknowledged, but it wasn't Matthew. “I'd invite you to go drinking with us, but Mattie boy made it pretty damn clear you're not allowed. See you at the meeting, stay awesome!” Prussia bid goodbye cheerfully, running to catch up with his group.

Alfred wore a fake smile, shattering all over again on the inside. Alfred knew what dying physically felt like, and he was pretty sure this was the emotional equivalent. Hotel room already paid for, Alfred sulked the entire taxi ride. An aura of dark gloom stuck to him. Checking in, he spotted another ominous cloud of depression. It was Russia in a blue sweater across the luxurious lobby, arguing hotly on his phone. Judging from the alien syllables, it was hastened Russian chatter. America listened keenly.

“... and you can fuck off, because this is my vacation time.” There was a long pause. “No. I don't care. You can't say that, because I do have friends. I have evening plans and everything!” Ivan held the phone away from his ear, wincing. “You're the liar. I'm done with you!” he dismissed, ending the call. His usual expression of bored doom was replaced by an angry grimace.

Alfred strolled over, remembering how nice the Russian had been earlier. “Hey big guy? How's it going?” he greeted genially. “I am... fine. Are you high, America?” Ivan asked, raising a brow in skepticism. “I don't need to be high to be nice to someone, dummy.” Alfred retorted lightly. “You are being nice to me. You must be high.” Ivan muttered, looking away.

Ignoring the pessimism that regularly oozed from Russia, Alfred replied “I still owe you a favour though, I didn't forget... See you at the meeting, dude!” the honey blond walked away, airport rejection briefly forgotten. Today would get better, it usually did!


	3. Chapter 3

Russia was confused, and somewhat worried. Why the hell was America being so nice to him? Did the nosy idiot hack into Ivan's government again? Was he going to blackmail Russia? As an increasingly strange list of threats was generated in Ivan's mind, the meeting was starting to fill up with other members. Russia had arrived early, with nothing else left to do.

He mentally drifted to his latest handler, devising creative ways to maim the man without getting yelled at. Ever since Ivan snapped at his boss and broke a chair several years ago, he rarely spoke directly to the world leader. He was always ordered through representatives or handlers, like some sort of badly trained dog. 

On this note, everyone seemed to seat themselves. Chatter died down as Germany stood and cleared his throat. Already not paying attention, Ivan noticed something weird. America staring at him with unknown intent. Wasn't that Ivan's job to be a creepy bastard?

Before Ivan could return the gesture, another set of eyes was felt bearing down on him. Fuck, It was Belarus! He loved his darling little sister, he really did, but she was horrifyingly overbearing. She simply didn't understand the meaning of no. Ivan was scared to correct her, nearly breaking her arm last time. He was heavy handed at the best of times.

As the stupid meeting progressed, Ivan could see her slipping closer. If he said something, it would give her an excuse to sit directly beside him. Ignoring her steadily, he looked ahead and searched for whoever the hell was speaking.

After several minutes, Ivan felt the distinctive claws of his needy sibling. She seemed thoroughly attached to his arm, much like a very determined boa constrictor. His troubles seemed compounded, when Alfred watched him again. Why the hell was the American pig grinning? Ivan was not prepared to be the subject of so much focus today. He was just... stressed.

When the meeting was called for a lunch break, Ivan couldn't wait to bolt. It was hard to flee with a crazy sibling clinging onto him like he was the last life boat. Dragging Belarus along miserably, Ivan coldly remarked “Walking would be easier if you let go of me.”

“No. You'll run away before we can get married.” Natalia retorted stubbornly. Rolling his eyes, Russia gave up on the subject. It was like talking to a brick wall. Distracted, Ivan walked into someone. The impact winded him a little.

It was Alfred, looking all ridiculous and happy. “Hey big guy. Need to borrow the crazy lady. Trade deals or something.” he chirped, peeling a shocked Natalia off Ivan with ease. Tossing her over one shoulder, the tanned blonde whistled show tunes as he was away. Natalia was scratching and fighting like a wild beast, only succeeding to piss off her captor. “Watch the suit. It's designer stuff!” America's could be heard, voice fading as he rounded a corner.

Russia sighed in relief. Finally free! He flexed the fingers in his right hand. Cold fingers prickled as blood circulation was reintroduced. After a moment, Ivan's relief switched to alarm. Belarus may be crazy, but she was still his little sister! Recalling which way Alfred had wandered, Ivan summoned all his stealth and caught up.

Belarus's occasional shrieks of defiance made the entire tracking process easy. Russia knelt by the frosted glass door of an office, listening closely.

“Stop biting me! I'm just giving you a hug!” a frustrated Alfred hissed. “I did not ask for one you dirty American pig dog!” Natalia growled in Russian. “You clearly need one, because you have fuckin' issues. Who the hell raised you? A wolf?” the male teased, not taking this seriously. Ivan cringed at the comparison. “Big brother did the best he could for the time! You will not disrespect his name!” Natalia replied angrily, defending Ivan yet somehow making it worse.

“Release me!” she demanded shrilly.

“Stop biting me and accept the damn hug. You're not going to get one from Ivan anyway.” Alfred repeated coldly. Russia felt angry at hearing this, even if it was the truth. They treated him like a shark at the aquarium or a chained beast. Rising to open the door silently, Ivan pulled a knife from within his coat.

There was a sigh, then a resigned “Very well, America. If you speak of this to anyone, I will cut off your face while you sleep.” Alfred chuckled and responded “I expected as much.”

No matter how crazy she was, Natalia was not going to be taken advantage of. Protective big brother mode activated, Ivan forced his way into the room, knife at the ready. What he saw made him want to vomit. Belarus, a slim thing, was curled on Alfred's lap. She looked almost happy in the rather platonic embrace.

Anger transformed into sickening jealously, then self loathing on top. He couldn't believe he was jealous of Belarus, his own dear sister. The hatred flared again, needing the urge to be expressed violently. “How dare you touch that untrustworthy American. He is cruel and foolish. He could hurt you!” Ivan blurted out in Russian, torn between rescuing her and banishing her from the room.

Natalia, quite aware of her own emotions, grinned maliciously. “You are jealous of me, how cute. Big brother desires hugs? Are hug not weakness? Are you weak?” she taunted. She was as cruel and predatory as Ivan trained her. He regretting creating a perfect soldier now, at the harmful end of her social barbs.

“The mighty Russian federation is not weak. I will crush and destroy all who defy me. Including you, dear sister.” Ivan cursed. The two Slavs stared at each other hard, Natalia smug while the taller was frustrated. Alfred stood, dumping Belarus on the floor. Picking her up off her feet, the American tugged Ivan and Belarus into a group hug. The flustered Russian paused the hostilities, expecting a punch to the stomach at first.

He didn't need hugs. He didn't think about the stray touch from months ago every day at work. He never lingered how it made his stomach flutter and twist. Not at all. He was cool and efficient, rational and clear. He didn't need companionship, or conversations, or sexual outlets. There was too much work to be done!

Ivan's treasonous body disagreed, completely giving into the gesture. He wrapped long arms around Alfred on one side, while Natalia stole the other. “This distraction totally backfired man.” Alfred wheezed, now utterly immobile. Ivan let out a tiny sound of contentment, crushing the nation closer. Natalia did the same, somehow even more desperate for contact.

Russia couldn't believe how wonderful physical contact was. He hadn't been touched in so long he totally forgot. It was soothing and warm, and made him feel like when he was little, before all the troubles. Back then, Ukraine would tuck him into bed, reading him spooky stories to help him sleep. The long buried memory made his heart skip an irregular beat.

America might be stupid, and thoughtless, and wasteful... and a lot of other bad things actually. He was also wonderful to touch, and his voice had a nice quality. It painted everything he said in a happy sheer of nostalgia, just like the colour filters on corny sit-coms and movies. It made Ivan feel things again, sometimes deeply. Perhaps America was an asset after all.

Ivan Braginsky never damaged valuable assets, hoarding them much like a fabled dragon. He would kill anyone that tried to take his new hug dispensing conquest away.


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred regretted everything in this moment. He regretted hugging Ivan six months ago in a moment of impulse. He regretted trying to meet Canada at the airport. He regretted choosing to repay a favour to the most insane nation on the planet. He regretted the favour involving someone even more unstable. He regretted all of this, because of his current predicament.

America, the most powerful nation in the world, was sandwiched between Russia and Belarus for the entire meeting. The powerfully built Russian guarded Alfred from being so much as looked at. Natalia was clutched to his arm, not having let go since lunch break. It was honestly scary to be stuck this way, like affectionate purgatory.

He had meant well at first. Distracting Belarus with a hug had seemed like something Matthew would do. Used to do, anyway. Alfred would be upset, and his reliable little brother would pat him on the back. He'd say everything was going to be okay. He'd say little compliments, or say relevant quotes of wisdom.

Alfred's eyes threatened to water from remembering these niceties. A year and a few months seemed like such a painfully long time to deprived of his twin. It felt like being chopped in half.

He was dragged back to the present as Belarus started touching his face. Alfred flinched, expecting to get stabbed. Instead, it was a soft fabric handkerchief. She was dabbing away his tears. Christ, this was an all time low. A communist country and renowned killer was wiping his tears away. Russia noticed as well, retrieving his own handkerchief. Fantastic, now there was two of them.

The other nations subtly glanced his way out of pity. They probably wondered what horrible crime he had caused to attract such trouble. Alfred was wondering the exact same thing himself. The second the meeting was concluded, he tried to flee. Ivan was waiting by the door, actually smiling. It was terrifying in a special sort of way.

“Come Alfred, we have evening plans. It is not often I am in Copenhagen.” he ordered more so than asked. “No way man. I'm not a damn pet!” Alfred protested, rooting himself to the spot. France paused to watch the curious interaction. England also watched, looking unimpressed.

“You will come, because you belong to me now.” Ivan replied with ease, still smiling. Alfred raised his brows in surprise, then frowned. “And when did you think that, fuck face?” he answered sharply. Glancing at his wristwatch, Ivan said “One hour, thirty one minutes, and sixteen seconds ago. I am never wrong.”

Alfred was punched in the gut, doubling over from the pain. Ivan then tossed him over one shoulder. Belarus pushed through the growing crowd, ready to battle with drawn blades. “Big brother, you will not have him for yourself. The stupid awful American belongs to me!” she declared. “You guys are fucking crazy.” Alfred hissed, still recovering from Russia's assault.

“Sharing new property with you is fine.” Ivan gave in easily, making Belarus look far too pleased. “Someone help me! Jesus Christ, what's wrong with everyone!” Alfred cried out as he was carried away against his will. “Jesus will not save you, for there is no god.” Belarus soothed in a happy tone, skipping behind her big brother.

Alfred had the strength to break free. He had the power to kill both of them, then everyone in the meeting room after. He didn't though. No one had chased after him to make sure he was okay. They weren't even discussing him as he was removed against his will. It was just a big joke to the world apparently. Matthew hadn't even looked up from the table the entire time, chatting casually with Japan.

Once they entered the elevator, Ivan put a heart broken American down. “You have stopped struggling. Did I damage your spinal cord?” Russia asked, actually concerned. “No, brother. He's still balancing himself. Maybe it is a brain injury.” Belarus suggested innocently.

As the elevator dinged and opened to a new floor, Alfred allowed himself to be dragged along. “He is nonverbal and crying. It could be a brain injury.” Ivan agreed, pulling Alfred in a room after two brightly lit halls. The hotel room was chilly, air conditioner cranked up high. Alfred shivered, staring at the floor.

“They didn't even ask if I was okay.” the honey blonde muttered, still crying. “Are his eyes broken?” Belarus asked, touching a salty tear with a manicured nail. “No. He is emotionally co-dependant on his twin, who has rejected him. He has been quite useless since last year.” Ivan chatted, as if Alfred was a dog or pet parrot.

“I'm not useless! You're an asshole! I don't even know why either of you are doing this to me.” Alfred argued, pride hurting. Dark blue eyes turned to Alfred, glimmering with something foreboding. “America, do you know had long it's been since anyone has treated me with kindness?” Belarus asked, evil eyes looming closer still.

Alfred swallowed, wishing he could back up farther that the metal hotel door. “1991. Big sister held me one more time, saying everything would be okay. We don't even talk anymore.” Belarus whispered, yet to blink like some creepy doll. Ivan stared at him too, missing nothing no doubt.

The American didn't even know what to say to that. No one had willingly touched the girl for over sixteen years. Fewer still had ever hugged her. Judging from how drunk and suicidal Ivan had been in 1991, Alfred assumed he was even more messed up.

He had accidentally attracted the attention of the two most emotionally deprived nations ever. Everyone else had friends or allies. Alfred could only hope they wouldn't go Hannibal Lector on him and eat his skin or something. Ever the optimist, the tanned American decided to make the best of things.

“Since you're taking me prisoner, You gotta feed me.” Alfred pointed out, sniffling as he dried his tears. Ivan furrowed his brow in thought, then looked over at his freckled captive. “I never fed American prisoners.” Belarus dismissed with regal airs, sitting on the large hotel bed. “Yes, and they all died before you could use them.” Ivan scolded, returning his attention to Alfred. “What does my little prisoner subsist on?”

“Gin, chocolate cake, and pot brownies, obviously.” Alfred answered in cheeky manner.


	5. Chapter 5

Belarus lay on the crowded bed the next morning. The trio had become completely wasted while watching vintage Disney movies in English and Russian. After too much marijuana and chocolate cake, Alfred and big brother passed out cold. Admittedly, Belarus was pretty fresh to the drug scene. She must of thrown up three times in the bathroom before she managed to fall asleep. Her alcohol tolerance was ungodly, other vices not so much.

The only way to not fall off the mattress was to cuddle close to America, but she was not opposed. Yesterday had been the first time in so very long that she was cared for. The feeling was powerful, like the pull of the tide. To feel soft delicate emotions, to really smile. She had almost no family memories like this. They were all cold and militaristic. Her whole life had been a battle after all.

She was almost as old as Russia, with even more experiences of infighting. There simply wasn't room in life for love or comforts. Yet a simple hug, obviously a distraction for brother to escape, undid her. It made her feel safe and content.

It was clear now. America would have to be tested to the limit. His morals and purity of heart would be weighed. If he passed the standards that many had failed before, Belarus was looking at a new possible mate. It was her deepest desire to be married, bound to another to banish her eternal sorrow. She only wanted the strongest most powerful male to be her husband after all.

Despite the rumours about her, Natalia didn't really want to marry her brother. Ivan just happened to be the only one that met her standards. Incest or not, social ranking was far more important. If she could catch herself a powerful American, she would be respected and expand the gene pool. Their children would be adorable, with the bluest of blue eyes. Alfred was just as traditionally handsome as brother too.

Of course, America needed to be thoroughly checked first. According to her small library of relationship books, a happy marriage required sharing common interests. She needed to be able to sit in the room with him and not cut his pretty eyes out. That would be another obstacle. Happy couples had formed from worse arrangements, she supposed. 

For now, she was glad to cuddle a live person in the morning. Distantly the long haired ash blonde wondered if this lightness of spirit was the beginnings of love. She then snorted and laughed. Love was a fool's game, one she had never won.


	6. Chapter 6

Ever since Alfred caught Natalia's interest, Ivan was free to relax in his own home. No longer did he have to triple lock his bedroom at night, including the windows. He didn't have to review video footage of his own house, looking for sibling stalkers.

Belarus seemed to focus on Alfred like a laser at the last meeting. Alfred had indeed repaid that favour he owed Ivan for some reason. Ivan could only remember Natalia being so intense when she really wanted something. Putting his feet up in a soft reclining chair, Ivan chuckled at the memories of her antics.

Natalia chasing Lithuania with a knife to 'test his agility'. The serious girl chaining Estonia to his chair so he was forced to finish their chess game. Her taking stock of how many weights Ivan could lift without asking, at three in the morning. For all her eccentricities, she really was a charming young woman.

Just as the tired nation had really sunk into the comfortable chair, his phone rang. He answered it lazily without looking. “What.” he answered flatly. “Dude, you gotta help me. Belarus is inside my house. She's just... smiling out the window at me.” Alfred begged, usual ego set aside.

“You shouldn't have invited her inside then.” Ivan remarked dully.

“I didn't. I just got home from work and she's there. Holy fuck. She's staring at me now. God, she winked! What the fuck does that mean?” Alfred babbled, scared on the other end.

“She is being playful. At least she isn't dragging you through those silly trials of ma-” Ivan froze mid sentence realizing exactly what was going on. “America, did she call you?” he asked with new urgency. “Yeah, she wanted to play chess, best two out of three wins a prize. I was actually pretty damn excited. Chess is fun, and a free mystery prize is always-” Ivan cut off the idiot's rambling.

“Run America, run before you cannot escape. She will chain you to a chair if she catches you!” Ivan warned, sitting up in concern. “Like she could ever do that.” Alfred scoffed. “Don't talk to her. Don't touch her. Do not engage her in anyway.” the Russian ordered, getting up and patting his hip for car keys.

“It's just Belarus. How bad could she really be? I mean... holy shit she can run fast! She's like-” the phone went dead, ending mid sentence. Fuck! It really sucked being his baby sister's keeper sometimes. Ever since Ukraine gave up on her in 1997, and Ivan in 1932, someone had to do it. Now he had to travel to yet another country, and stop his dearest sibling from going killing anyone important. Such a nuisance!

He never even got to take his work clothes off. Picking up his briefcase by the door, he called his latest handler. The last one had quit after getting back handed roughly while nagging Ivan. It had mostly been by accident though. Really, the guy should have known better than to visit when Ivan was roaring drunk.

“Hello?” the nameless human greeted. “I am leaving for the USA. Belarus is torturing an unlucky American diplomat and I need to intervene.” Ivan explained evenly, not waiting for permission. The human predictably argued with him but he didn't listen to the details. Something about not his responsibility, blah blah blah. “She is my precious baby sister who just happens to be... temperamental. It is my duty to drag her back to Minsk before anything bad happens.” Ivan growled, hanging up after.

The flight was long, over seven hours not including waiting for connections. Ivan felt particularly gross from staying in his day clothes longer than twenty hours. Taking a taxi from the airport, he was at America's house in fifteen minutes. It was now the middle of the night, yet all the main floor lights were on. Pulling a large key ring out of his deep coat pockets, he started browsing the broad selection.

China's house, Japan's house, Estonia's house... ah yes! America's house key, or at least a copy of it. Letting himself in, Ivan whistled a merry tune as he looked around. Having memorized Alfred's house thirty years ago, Ivan moved about the space as if it was his own.

Knowing his baby sister well, she was probably in the kitchen. Ivan was the same when bored or stressed. Kitchens were a source of comfort for both of them. Food always loved you. Food didn't cry or run away. Especially containers of chocolate frosting. Mmm, frosting.

As predicted, a chained up America was being forced to play chess in the kitchen. Belarus looked red in the face with frustration, while Alfred was confident. There wasn't a single eliminated piece on either side, moved everywhere. “Stop being defensive and play!” she yelled in Russian. “Hey big guy, what's with the visit? Miss my amazing charisma?” Alfred greeted, totally ignoring his opponent.

“I am not here for you, I am here for my dear little sister. Are you behaving badly again, little bird?” Ivan asked, turning to glare at Belarus in motherly fashion. “I am not a baby anymore! I am a grown nation with plans and goals, and you won't ruin them this time.” Belarus whined angrily, acting very much like a teenage girl.

“You're going back to Minsk in the morning, and you will behave when you do!” Ivan scolded. “No! I won't leave you alone with him! I see the way you look at him!” Belarus taunted.

“How dare you! You know I don't have time for relationships, and I don't need them. With that... dog? You really are insane!” Ivan stammered hotly, hiding his expression in his scarf. “Going to blush like a little girl?” Belarus sneered, chess game completely forgotten. “Stop acting like a little girl and go home! Stop trying to marry random people!” Ivan commanded, so done with this conversation.

“Well... I'm going to watch my recording of the Miami Dolphins game. Have fun dealing with family issues.” Alfred interrupted, wriggling in his chains. After a second, he flexed and burst free of the metal bindings. His shirt was torn in the process, but the tanned nation did seem to mind.

Ivan's insides twisted and fluttered again. Hungry violet eyes followed Alfred as he walked out of the room. “Wasn't that sexy? Did you see his abs?” Belarus sighed, grinning. “No.” Ivan growled stubbornly, burying his smouldering expression behind coat sleeves. Staying here overnight was going to be awful.

After going upstairs, Ivan looked around and searched for a suitable bed. He was ready to crash after 38 hours of working. The first guest bedroom was far too dusty. The second bedroom was cramped, with a mattress that was too short for his frame. The third bedroom was Alfred's, with a generous sized bed. Ivan looked at the clean bed with longing, so tired that nothing mattered.

Peeling off his heavy coat and winter shoes, Ivan shuffled closer. He didn't need to be so nervous about this. He had broken into this stupid house so often he memorized it. The pale Russian couldn't really make things worse anyway. He cautiously perched the large bed, sinking into it.

Sleep was a siren call, not to be ignored. Looking at the door in paranoid fashion, only sounds of American football echoed from downstairs. Slipping onto the bed, Ivan greedily hugged the biggest pillow there. Holding it closer he allowed himself to smile. He could have at least these few moments for his selfish desires.

Laying down a second, then a few more, he lingered in his surroundings. The scent of America, of wilderness and beauty, made him shiver. Safe and alone, Russia smiled and nuzzled the pillow. Just a few more minutes...

Ivan woke from a nightmare sharply, memories of chilly gulags making his heart stutter. Evening out erratic breathing, he fought panic as he looked around. He was in Alfred's room which was familiar enough to be relaxing. His pillow was warm and soft... and snoring like a muffled chainsaw. It was also muscular and wonderful to feel...

He opened his eyes, knowing he was groping a sleeping America. Disgusted with himself, Russia slipped off the bed and looked down at his treasonous body. He had to deal with his reactive southern region before he was blinded by lust.

Russia wasn't gay, he was just... horny and stressed, and hadn't had any in forever. Not believing his own denial this time, he silently stormed off to find lotion and a bathroom.


	7. Chapter 7

Belarus was on her third cigarette as she browsed an American newspaper. Ivan, considerably grumpier than usual, was doing the same thing. “You guys are really into the news.” Alfred remarked stupidly as he made a pile of fried potato things alongside fried eggs.

Russia grumbled something murderous and offensive, moving onto a magazine. “Why are you being so bitchy today dude?” the handsome honey blonde challenged, not put off be the act. Belarus smirked, knowing her socially awkward brother well. She had heard his nightmares, his frustrated cries in the night.

“He has not had sex in many decades.” Natalia noted dryly, resuming reading. She drank in any words she could find in the house. The media was so controlled at home that reading anything truly from the outside world was a treat.

“That is not appropriate breakfast conversation.” Ivan interrupted coldly, not amused. “Shit is that all? I know like a ton of people that are totally easy! I even have books with like, pictures, and a box of-” Alfred's candid offer was cut off by a flustered looking Russian. “I do not discuss such vulgar topics during breakfast.” Ivan repeated stubbornly. He looked up at the time, then to the still shirtless American. That was probably driving big brother crazy, not that he showed it.

“Shouldn't you be at work?” He asked, resuming his calm manner. “Yeah, but my boss is stupid. I was supposed to do a diplomatic mission about Africa, but he called some important dude a boring nigger, so... yeah. Not happening. I'm probably going to get banned from Africa or something.” Alfred explained casually, turning off the stove. Belarus listening intently, schemes forming.

“If I assisted you in training your bad leader, you would be much better off.” Belarus pointed out. “Yeah, no... I don't trust you. Communists don't help anyone.” Alfred dismissed seriously. Offended, Belarus rose from her seat. “The socialist regime is wonderful, fairness and equality, for all the peoples of the earth!” She protested proudly.

“If you spout that shit in my house again, I will kick your ass.” Alfred threatened, pulling a gun out of a kitchen drawer. Just as furious tunnel vision began to set in, a heavy cold hand settled on her shoulder. “Please sister, talk about something else.” Russia said solemnly, looking worn out over the subject. Considering how badly America had beat up Ivan as the USSR, the reaction was not surprising.

Communism may have been a social train wreck, but it just needed to be tweaked. They could get it right the second time! As previous arguments revealed, big brother did not share this opinion. America's violent hatred of communists was another huge obstacle to making him her husband. Perhaps compromise would be required after all...

The mountain of fried shredded potato and eggs was placed on the table. It took four heaping plates to do so. Belarus wondered who else was coming over for breakfast, when America just starting eating it rapidly. Was he going to eat all that food? It was three times more than her brother would need, and he was the biggest country on earth. Belarus ate a piece of toast and tea for breakfast earlier.

While still eating quickly, Alfred managed to talk clearly without getting food everywhere. “Hey Natalia. You're closest. Pass me a smoke.” he asked more than ordered. Surprised the superpower even knew her real name, the woman complied. “I made extra guys. I'm not a complete dick sometimes.” he offered, already down a plate.

“Staring is rude, Natasha.” Ivan absently corrected as he took some. “But how?” she asked, dumbfounded. Ivan shrugged, then ate at a more polite pace. “Your gravel has become much better American.” the Russian noted, enjoying himself. “It's grits, not gravel. And... yeah, the onions helped at lot. Tastier.”

Belarus felt a cruel twinge of something in her gut. Jealousy. Wonderful big brother was already so at ease in this house that he could find stuff better than Alfred. They were comfortable in the same room these days. They were having conversation like they were old friends. She, in her long life, had never had that. Only stupid Lithuania ever paid attention to her. She didn't want a spineless worm like him for a mate.

“Precious sister, you should pack any things you brought while my clothes are drying. I promised to bring you back to Minsk in reasonable time.” Russia noted, actually pausing his eating to speak, like a regular person. Currently he was in borrowed sweat pants and a somewhat tight hockey jersey. “Stop calling me precious. I'm not a little baby! I'm a woman, and I will find a husband, and he's going to kick your ass for bossing me around. He'll be that strong.” Belarus boasted proudly. 

America burst into laughter, nearly choking on his food. “If you marry him, he'd have to kick his own ass. That show would be worth money!” he replied with mirth. “Isn't going to happen.” Ivan nodded in agreement. Big brother wore a smug expression, one of utmost confidence.

Natalia scowled, not discouraged in the least. She would have her dream wedding and a child of her own. The determined ash blonde didn't care who she had to kill or intimidate to do so.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred was a little embarrassed today. He finally understood why Russia was being so kind, giving ominous warnings so many months ago. It was well established that Alfred was being stalked. The invasive and strange behaviour should bother him at least a little. It never did. Belarus just seemed to come and go without warning, often relaxing in the kitchen. Russia himself was extremely guilty of this behaviour. Hell, the guy even moved stuff around on occasion.

Of course, Russia had never been caught in the act. Belarus wasn't even trying to hide her activities, sitting next to him after work silently. Last night had been the most aggressive visit to his house. She had the nerve to completely steal the smallest guest bedroom, using it as a work space. That was the one boundary Alfred held strong to. No foreign politics in his home.

He had stomped upstairs, ready to yell like he'd never yelled before. He opened the door, lists of snappy one-liners already in his head. What Alfred saw and heard made him pause. It was Belarus actually smiling as she ate chocolate frosting and cutting out pictures from wedding magazines. She was chatting animatedly on the phone with someone about whether ruffles were still fashionable.

Lost for words, he stomped over in a huff and took his sugary treat back. It had 'Property of Russia' written all over it in messy Cyrillic letters. “I was eating that!” she whined, ending the call to whoever she was conversing with. “You and your brother, keep away from my frosting! I earned this!” he ordered, decidedly grouchy.

“For my future husband, you're being very dramatic.” Belarus teased, taking the icing back with a pout. Alfred's brain froze up at the statement. After a minute, he seemed to function. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded, truly not understanding.

“You passed all of my trials! You are agile and strong. You are smart, despite how stupid you look and sound. Your combat training is advanced. You are handsome as well. You are perfect husband material. Oh Alfred, our children will have the bluest of eyes.” She explained, as if this was basic math.

“You can't be serious. I don't even like you. You're a communist!” Alfred protested. “Love and marriage are not related, fool. This is arranged marriage, state business if you will. I can make the whole process painless for you.” She soothed, completely ineffective with her creepy smile.

“I... I need some air.” Alfred muttered, retreating quickly. He dialed Matthew's number out of habit as he left the house. The number was out of service. His brother was so pissed at him that he changed numbers. That hurt so much deeper than Alfred thought it would. Ready to sulk and drown his woes at a local bar, Alfred tried the only other person the took him seriously.

After calling Russia's number, it rang a few times before there was an answer. “Hello, Alfred.” the Slav answered cheerfully. “You need to get rid of Belarus for me, she's crazy, she wants to marry me. She keeps looking at me weird, and won't leave my house.” Alfred blurted out fearfully.

There was laugh then a sigh. “I warned you. She is not so harmless.” Ivan teased, being a dick. “Fuck off okay? When can you drag her away from here?” Alfred asked urgently. “Soon.” the northern nation promised, hanging up suddenly. Alfred stared at his phone in disbelief. That bastard was such an inconsiderate arrogant little prick! He didn't even give a time!

Just as the irritated American looked up from his phone, Russia rounded a corner. Alfred startled at the sight, unusual as it was. It was a scarf free Russia with blue jeans and a print t shirt. It was a suiting getup, considering how unbearably hot summer was this year. “Why... How... are you here? Don't you have, you know, a country of your own to bother?” Alfred asked. 

Enjoying all the exasperated expressions, Ivan replied “I am on vacation. Since I have been banned from most of my former states, I come here for beaches.”

“You were stalking me! What is wrong with your family? Can't you just hang out with friends like normal people?” Alfred argued. Russia rolled his eyes, sarcastically answering “Do we look like a family that has friends?”

“Good point. Let's go.” Alfred agreed quickly, not dwelling on the sad statement. Leading the way home, the walk was silent for a time. Rain splattered around them, hot like the air. “How long have you been stalking me?” Alfred asked softly as the house came into view. There was a pregnant pause as Ivan seemed to mull the question over. “All of your civil war... a while after that I was busy. Then... 1945 onward I suppose.” the Russian admitted, looking a little embarrassed.

Alfred shook his head, looking to the heavens in exasperation. “None of you make any sense. Let's get this over with.” Re-entering the house, Ivan seemed to find Belarus quickly on his own. “Sister. Stop this nonsense. You are not getting married!” He bellowed as he stomped up the stairs. “You won't ruin my plans again!” the female nation yelled back defiantly.

As usual the odd siblings dissolved into rapid fire arguing, as petty as it was Russian. Alfred rolled his eyes and waited the angry discussion out in the hall. When it only seemed to escalate louder, he entered the room.

“Okay! What the fuck is so interesting!?” He demanded, staring both Slavic nations down fiercely. “Big brother will not be stopping my dream wedding, or his precious secret will be revealed.” Natalia announced confidently. Ivan stared at his sister angrily, but said nothing.

“What is this secret?” America demanded, brow raised. No dice, for the duo remained silent. Enough of this bull shit. For months now, Belarus had been getting away with everything while her normally proactive brother stood by uselessly. She always held something over her unwilling guardian, just as evil as him.

“Okay, how about now. Feeling talkative?” Alfred asked again, pulling out a pistol from his hip holster. Weirdly enough, Belarus blushed at the threat of violence. Ivan paled, vision narrowing on the weapon. He damn well knew how much damage Alfred was capable of. “Tell. Me. The. Secret.” Alfred repeated seriously. The gun was now pressed against Ivan's anxiety riddled face.

America hadn't planned on becoming so angry, his temper running away from him at the best of times. Right now it was actually helping his cause, so he went with it. “Natalia, it isn't worth my life.” Ivan whispered, glancing to her. “You can't tell him, you'll only get hurt! They sent you to the gulags last time!” the sister insisted, looking concerned.

“I know.” Ivan sighed, looking at Alfred sadly. “America... Alfred, I am very much in love with you. Homosexuality is considered an illness in my country, so I've hidden my preferences for... a very long time.” the Russian confessed, as if he were no better than a child molester.

Alfred put the safety on his gun on, shoving it back in it's hip holster. He almost wanted to laugh from how ridiculous this all was. “She's blackmailing you over this? It's a joke!” he blurted out, a grin splitting his face.

“This is not a joke! I have been burned at the stake for this!” Ivan argued angrily, no longer solemn. “Big guy, just... just breathe. Come here.” Alfred soothed, pulling the Russian close as he quaked with fear or possibly anger. Alfred held Ivan's face, then kissed him tentatively. The soft touch of lips turned aggressive, Ivan tasting of vodka and the steak he'd eaten for dinner.

Russia didn't just kiss, he held on for dear life. He savoured every touch like a thirsty man at a desert oasis. It was a toe curling kiss, making Alfred swoon. A fella could get used to this! As the kiss ended, Ivan muffled small sounds in Alfred's shirt. “It is over now. I will be sent away again.” the Russian muttered mostly to himself.

Belarus huffed in frustration. Burying her face in her hands, she whined loudly. “Just when I thought I found a good mate... Why am I cursed to be alone?” Ivan finally pried himself off a breathless Alfred. It seemed the male's own needs had never been a priority ever. “No, no, you won't be alone.” he hushed, as if she were a small child.

“Why do you want to be married so badly?” Alfred asked the forlorn Belarus curiously. She looked at him with big dark blue eyes, watery and bright. If she wasn't so damn crazy, she'd be kinda hot. “In marriage... a man doesn't run away at the sight of you. He pays attention to you, goes on dates. They go shopping with you, love enough to notice when something is wrong. They care!”

How curious. Both of them were so deprived and lonely it drove them to violence. A psychologist would have a field day with the pair. “You can both stop crying like it's the Titanic, because this won't be a problem.” Alfred announced after much thought.

“Why is that?” Ivan asked softly, still upset. “Well for one thing, I'm bisexual. I can be very flexible about all... this.” America replied with a big smile. Belarus looked confused, then scheming as she looked to her big brother. Ivan clued in as she spoke smoothly.

“That is... interesting. Perhaps, we could arrange something... unconventional?”


	9. Chapter 9

Ivan bounced excitedly in his chair as the world meeting began. He could barely contained the joy in his body today. Despite being banished from Moscow, losing his 300 year old house to the historical societies, and banned from being within 200 feet of the Kremlin, his joy still won out. Because today was a very special day indeed.

Since Belarus was first to speak, she was the lucky one to make the announcement. Alfred, always late, finally took his seat. Table chatter was hushed to a minimum with a single gesture from the forever uptight Germany. “Nations of the world, from every continent... I, Natalia Arvloskaya, formally invite you to the wedding of the century!” she announced with a flourish of hands. When the room remained dead quiet, she frowned and poked her brother in the shoulder.

Ivan was torn away from looking at Alfred dreamily, smiling at his sister. A pile of invitation was shoved in his hands. They had his own graceful calligraphy on them, drawn with love. He handed them out happily, returning to his seat after a few minutes.

“This is a joke right?” England protested first, so predictable. “We do not joke.” Ivan assured with a curling smirk. He wanted to cut the Brit's skin off, but it would ruin the mood of the announcement. He settled for glaring dangerously at anyone that imposed.

“I have never been to a polygamist wedding before. Zis will be so fun!” France commented with glee, nudging a shell shocked Japan. “Why Morocco?” Australia asked, looking confused and bored.

“I volunteered actually. I'm a big fan of the idea.” The dark skinned nation spoke up at the far end of the table, a few of his African siblings sitting with him. Germany, who was only a few chairs away, looked ready to have a stroke.

For once, both Italians seemed in agreement. “Monogamy is better, it's how you're supposed to do things.” Southern Italy challenged, buckling under Ivan's predatory stare several seconds later than expected. The other cowardly Italian nodded in agreement but didn't voice it. Spain stood in his chair, proudly stating “Polygamy is a crime against god and the church. I won't allow any –”

“Free bar and buffet, mon cheri. Isn't zat wonderful?” France cheered, elbowing a very red England.

Spain's religious crusade died suddenly upon hearing this. “– and I will be personally attending to congratulate the happy, um, group! New century, new perspective!” the Spaniard cheered, sitting back down. “You cheap bastard!” Southern Italy hissed. Austria looked more interested by the open bar than the wedding news, completely calm. “It would not be the strangest event I have attended.” he noted flatly, Germanic accent palpable.

“I have to be your photographer, and Japan can... Oh, I think he fainted.” Hungary practically squealed with joy, only stopping when her Asian companion keeled over. Alfred had been texting on his phone the entire time, oblivious.

He took notice of everyone staring at him, tucking his phone away. Ivan mostly looked for rippling muscle under that tight work shirt, dreaming of ways to ravish Alfred later. It felt so good and freeing to be able to do this, to look and touch. The tasty little American was just a platter of devious delights, only he didn't mind sharing with his sister every odd day.

“Now I know, ya'll are thinking I lost my marbles. But it's a good idea! Besides, I don't care what your opinions are. Just come and enjoy a kick ass party in Morocco.” the charming yet bold American assured. An open bar beach party seemed to appeal to the alcoholic in everyone, as well as the cheap opportunists.

When everyone calmed down, Ivan knew his sister had made the right choice. This style of marriage was unacceptable under regular circumstances, but this was an exceptional case. It just worked out well, and he wasn't going to question how.

Russia was live with excitement. He finally understood the appeal of a wedding, why his sister had wanted one for so many centuries. A special day, just for them. A declaration of love to the universe! Ivan smouldered with lust in his seat just thinking about it.


	10. Chapter 10

Belarus hummed to herself as she read a vogue magazine. Sipping a vodka martini delicately, she ignored the noises a room over. It sounded more like animals than people at this point, but it was bound to happen. Big Brother was just blowing off steam after essentially being banned from his own country. 

It was still quite incredible that Alfred had so easily agreed to the unconventional marriage. He reasoning at the time had been rather basic, with a offending statement of “If it doesn't work out, we can totally just divorce after. Besides, I did way crazier stuff in the 1960's.”

Although Natalia had no intention of letting go, he didn't need to know that. As it was, the six month cohabitation trial of the threesome had gone off without a hitch. They all loved guns, sports, and required intense companionship to remain sane. 

A wedding was only natural progression after so many months of testing.

The wedding had been a huge hit, smoothed over by the loving embrace of alcohol. Since the trio couldn't agree on whether to use purple, blue, or red flowers for the accents, a compromise was reached. A complimentary creamy yellow was picked instead, along with lots of white blossoms. The weather had been perfect on the beach, an archway of flowers over looking the ocean. Morocco himself tended to the ceremony, all smiles.

The only ones that tried to ruin the special day were England and a sober Spain. Once the Spaniard was thoroughly sauced, he was much more agreeable. The cantankerous Brit was loud and horribly opposed no matter what condition he was in. He ended up gagged and chained to a tree far from the ceremony. Maybe Belarus forgot to look for him after. Maybe she slashed the tires on his rental car. Who could keep track of so much during a special day such as that?

After the wedding had been the real political disaster. Big brother's boss and entire government was repulsed by what he had done. Homosexuality and polygamy were both very badly received within Russian borders. Banned from Novosibirsk, Pushkino, and three dozen other places of interest, Ivan was essentially forced to live overseas in more accepting countries. 

Alfred felt guilty about the fallout of the glamorous wedding. Offering Ivan a job as a stock market analyst and financial law enforcer, it seemed a paltry apology. Big brother always assured his husband he was fine, offering a small smile. He wasn't, but he would be with time. With love and guidance from each other, they would all improve.

Belarus's own country, rather miserable and poor at times, had an equally negative reaction. The major difference there was that Natalia simply didn't give a shit. She had been treated badly by her own people so often that she had no regard for her boss. The older militaristic leader screamed and ordered her until he was probably blue in the face over the phone. She didn't listen a lot of the time, checking her nails or looking with longing out the window.

Knowing how uncaring yet essential she was, the dictator eventually withdraw the bans. He begrudgingly allowed Belarus back home, along with both husbands. Her country really wasn't gaining much from her absence anyway. So here the happy bunch were, vacationing in Minsk at Belarus's century old summer house.

The sound died down, Ivan calling out strangled nonsense. After a minute, Belarus absently yelled out “You better be cleaning up after! Both of you!” There was a sigh as the bedroom door opened. “Yes bossy wife.” Alfred replied tiredly from afar, probably dragging himself off to the bathroom. A second pair of feet could be heard behind.

After fifteen minutes, the two men crashed on the couch beside Natalia in fluffy house coats. Alfred draped himself lazily around Belarus. Ivan was the bigger spoon behind him, immensely pleased and half asleep. “Mmm, new magazine?” the sated American asked in vague interest. Clutching an open page, she nodded.

“Yes, dear. There's a new dress, I need it.” She informed with twinkling eyes. “You need it, huh?” Alfred laughed, giving her a squeeze and a kiss. “Yes. It's perfect. Just look at the curves, and the ribbons... and the colour, it's so me! I already have six pairs of heels that could go with it.” Belarus continued, in tentative love with more than the man beside her for once. “It looks expensive. Then we have to go the super mall in New York...” big brother complained, ever the pessimist. “You love that mall just as much as we do.” Natalia pointed out, knowing her sibling well.

Yawning, Alfred nodded in thought. “It's been a few months since we all went out to the mall together. We should make a day of it when we get back home. Get you that dress, Vanya a nice suit, maybe some dinner.” he suggested thoughtfully.

“You don't have to... I mean... You spent all day with me today.” Ivan dismissed, mothering them like always. “Let me take care of you! You're always cooking and cleaning... shit like that... I'm the husband. It's my fucking job to take care of you. Both of you.” Alfred insisted stubbornly. Ivan blushed faintly, still unused to so much romantic attention after centuries of hiding. Belarus could relate, having been denied similar earthly pleasures. Burying an embarrassed expression in Alfred's house coat, big brother agreed with a stifled happy sound.

Sure Alfred could be crude, Vanya could be stubborn, and Natalia was a tad short tempered. Natalia was more likely to grill a steak than iron a shirt. Alfred was pretty much useless all around but the sex was amazing. Then there was the fact that he always tried his best. It was so lovable and endearing, sweet to the core.

Big brother was happy too, finally able to taste and try everything he'd silently lusted after for nearly three centuries. Besides, it wasn't like Belarus and Ivan were actually married. They just shared the same husband. Nothing wrong with that.

Alfred and his once co-dependant twin were once again on speaking terms. It was nothing deep or involved like before. They no longer needed each other for emotional fulfillment. Matthew had most of Europe eating out of his hands, while Alfred had gained true friends.

The oversized child had become a man, her man specifically. He was so much more confident, no longer as anxious about his weight or other dumb issues. Well, usually. Everyone had their bad days, Natalia supposed. Even she had paranoid moments.

Life wasn't a perfect little sitcom with a straight monogamous couple and two kids. It didn't matter if life was perfect anymore. For once, Belarus had a happily-ever-after of her own.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you see? Comment or leave a kudos!


End file.
